In Which Baz Faints and Simon Gets a Haircut
by nekolcairw
Summary: Inspired by thecruciblegavemeyou on tumblr. Prompt: I want to see Simon try to straighten all his curls. I feel like it would all go really flat. Like a bowl cut.
1. Chapter 1

It was a vain attempt, really. His hair was a veritable disaster. Curls left and right, sticking up in all the wrong ways. More than usual today though. Simon wasn't one to devote too much time to his appearance. When he could get away with it, he usually just rolled out of bed and walked out the door. While changes of clothes were obviously necessary at a certain point, he never dealt with the golden mass of curls that was his hair. That was too much effort.

But today he was at the end of his rope. At breakfast he had had enough. The umpteenth time his hand got stuck running through his hair, he whipped out his wand and jabbed it into the offending mop atop his head, Penny's shout of warning was lost to his cry of frustration, and with a resounding _pop_ , all went silent in the dining hall.

Penny's hand immediately shot to her mouth, eyes wide in shock. Agatha looked almost offended, gaze to the side. The whole hall seemed to be holding its breath.

 _Well, something had to be different, right?_

And that's when he heard sniggering behind him, from across the aisle, where Baz and his friends usually sat. With a scowl, he was about to turn around when the laughing was suddenly cut short, replaced with sounds of alarm. When he finally did turn around, he was greeted with an awfully strange sight, one that he was sure he'd never see again.

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch had fainted dead away, face unwittingly acquainting itself with the dark mahogany of the table.

As the silence broke into hushed whispers, Simon could only watch as Dev and Niall hauled up his unconscious roommate and hurried out of the hall.

 _Huh._


	2. Chapter 2

Snow's hair was getting out of hand. And as much as he wanted to say that it deterred any thoughts of running his hand through the boy's curly mane (lovingly, gently, **roughly** ), well… it didn't. However, that wasn't the point. When it got to the point that you're getting your hand stuck in it or things were sticking in it, one might have concluded that something had to be done.

And so Snow had done something, right there at breakfast actually. And apparently Baz had fainted, right there at breakfast as well. He chalks it up to the amount of blood in his body at the given time. (The Catacombs had been sparse last night.) Others clearly chalk it up to something else entirely, as indicated by the blatant staring and hushed whispers.

When he can stand it no longer, he stepped outside, finding an interesting scene. Bunce seemed to be lecturing Snow, Wellbelove off to the side. Snow, on the other hand (and for once) was quietly listening. Against his better judgment, he walked towards the trio.

"–could've blown your brains out, Simon! Honestly, what were you thinking?" He can hear a tight fear in her voice, wound in with the anger. It is at times like these that Baz is thankful for the fact that Bunce is just foolish enough to stay by Snow's side. And he can decidedly say that he would not have liked a Snow with his brains blown out.

Snow has the decency to look ashamed until he catches sight of Baz coming towards them. Immediately he shoots to his feet, that bloody sword drawn and now, most rudely, pointed at Baz's face.

"Baz." It's practically a snarl. Honestly, he'd like to hear his name called in a different manner, but there's no time for those kinds of thoughts right now. Instead, he smiles placidly.

"Snow." Wellbelove's eyes dart between them, lingering on Baz. Snow pays her no mind, eyes solely trained on him. Well now, he could get used to this.

"What do you w-" He's soundly cut off by Bunce, with a hard slap to the arm. Baz gives a derisive snort, and Snow looks between the two of them, shocked and scandalized.

"Merlin, that hurt Penny!" How unbecoming, Snow's practically whining. Bunce, however, offers no sympathies, eyes back on the mess that is his hair.

"What you need, Simon, is a haircut."

* * *

Interestingly enough, after that statement Snow had paled, promptly about faced, and ran. Bunce, after her initial shock, had soon been in hot pursuit. Baz didn't see where Wellbelove had slipped off to. Excitement seemingly had for the day, he made his way back Mummer's House.

Apparently, it was not. For when he stepped into the room to find Bunce (how did she even get in here anyways?) imperiously towering over a, dare he say it, cowering Snow.

* * *

And so, that was how he found himself here, a pair of scissors in his hand–

 _"By all means, no! I will not have another wand pointed at his head!"_  
 _"Who are you, Penny, my mum?" That had earned him another slap._

–preparing to cut Simon Snow's hair. Of course, Snow had had his own objections to the scissors–

 _"Penny, you must think me crazy if you think that I'm going to let him anywhere near me with scissors!"_

–all of which had soundly been ignored.

Bunce, herself, was practically perched on his shoulder, as Snow had designated her to the role of supervisor, after he had recounted, with great detail, the resulting horror that was her siblings' hair when she had attempted to cut it last.

Baz allowed himself a sigh, wondering what he had done to deserve this.

"Ready, Snow?" The boy in question simply fumed silently in his general direction. The only reason that he was sitting so still was that Bunce had threatened to spell him to the chair. Baz's mouth quirked, threatening to become a smile. Glad for the fact Snow was facing the other direction, he got down to business.

* * *

Cutting someone's hair was a decidedly intimate action Baz mused. Snow's hair is really as soft and lovely as he thought. Discarded curls litter the floor around his feet. Occasionally his hands brush the nape of Snow's neck. The only sounds in the room were the decisive snip of the scissors, and an occasional sigh from Snow. Bunce had grown tired of watching them, and much to Snow's dismay, was now dozing on his bed. Even so, a comfortable (?) silence had fallen between the two.

"Um.. Baz?" He hums in response.

"Was it really that bad? I mean, you fainted, and all.." Baz feels color rise to his face.

"I'm sure you would have too if you'd seen how ridiculous you'd looked. You're lucky Bunce was able to spell it back to normal so quickly."

"Yeah.." The soft tone isn't what Baz expected, so he plows on.

"I mean, honestly Snow, with what you're prone to with magic, you're lucky didn't blow your brains out."

"Yeah, I guess." He almost sounds sheepish, "I suppose I did deserve that slap." He lets out a small laugh, and Baz is even more confused.

He's not really sure what he wants. Sure the civilness of it all is nice, but usually the slightest of jabs at Snow and he'd be up in Baz' face in an instant. Not that Baz minded. Oh no, he never really minded. However, this was perturbing and Baz wasn't sure of… Well, sure of anything really. So now he's just rambling.

"And I don't even know why you'd even try that! Besides the potentially dangerous side effects–" Snow twitches at that, "it looks fine as is – perfect, even! Just like the rest of you!" Oh. Oh. Baz doesn't think he meant to say that. The scissors promptly drop out of his hands to the floor, as if on cue. Then he bumps his head on the back of Snow's chair as he stoops to get them. He could have done with that, he decides, muttering string of expletives as he rubs his head.

"Wow Baz, I didn't know you knew that one." Snow is peering at him over the back of his chair. His eyes say it all though, wide and as blue as ever. Did you just call me perfect?

Baz inwardly groans, and thankfully Bunce chooses that time to wake up. Nodding her approval, she hurriedly ushers Snow out of the room, not before flashing him a big smile, not unlike the cat who ate the canary. And he wonders.

Wonders if he'll ever run his hands through Simon Snow's hair again.  
Wonders if he'll ever have the chance to call Simon Snow perfect again.  
Wonders how screwed he really is. (He decides a lot.)

Ugh.


End file.
